


what’s in a name?

by anakinleias



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 3+1, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alter Egos, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, F/M, Future Fic, coffee shenanigans, tagging everything just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinleias/pseuds/anakinleias
Summary: 3 times they use fake names for coffee orders and one time they don’t.





	what’s in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> Told a friend about this idea a while ago, which I got when I was writing my first fic for this fandom and wanted to include a scene but couldn't figure out how to write it.  
> Inspired by Tessa's reply to an instagram comment where she said she and Scott used to order coffee using fake names as her mom and his dad and also Meryl and Charlie. The other ones were thrown in from their airport car signs.
> 
> Huge thanks to bucketofrice for the encouragement, moral support and revising.

_i. meryl & charlie_

Scott drives them to Starbucks every morning on the way to the rink, watching Tess struggle to stay awake as they wait for someone to call Meryl and Charlie’s (they still get a kick out of it) orders so they can be on their way. When he hears the names, he goes to pick up their orders while she’s halfway out the door. Unlocking the car, she quickly gets into the passenger seat, stretching out her legs and gently kneading the muscles in preparation for a long day.

Scott comes back, taking a sip of his much larger white chocolate mocha (which she estimates to be around 360 calories, at least 15 just from fat) and placing her 150-calorie tall vanilla latte in the cupholder next to her. He needs the caffeine but prefers the sweeter taste.

Buckling her seatbelt, she sits up straight and tries to finish it before they get to the rink, lest they think she’s indulging too much and decide to weigh her twice a week instead of just once.

She discards her cup in the dumpster behind the building, grateful for their prank routine of using their competitors’ names instead of their own; if it gets found, she can always claim ignorance. Scott continues on, finishing his own in the locker room before joining her on the ice for warmup.

Tessa’s twitchy already, throwing side-glances at Marina whenever they take a break which go ignored as she remains glued to her phone, occasionally yelling out commands, barely audible over the speakers which are already blasting Carmen.

By the time the real Meryl and Charlie arrive for their own scheduled practice, she’s been more on the phone than not, and Tessa can count on one hand the times they actually got helpful feedback.

 

_ii. kate & joe_

For a while, coffee isn't really his drink of choice. When they do meet up for it, he usually goes for a simple cappuccino for Joe while she asks for a double double for Kate, because they can't bear to keep using their previous fake names.

(She’d taken to using her mother’s name to claim her free coffees after winning Roll Up the Rim, something that made her as elated as if they’d won gold at Sochi. He almost makes that joke, but his throat feels raw, so he swallows the words with a sip of his own drink.)

They catch up; she tells him about school and how her exams are kicking her ass, how she can’t wait for break so she can go to the cottage with her family and work on a few designs for her jewelry line, moans about green juice and kale salad in preparation for photoshoots. He listens more than he speaks, filling her in on the happenings of his family and the many cousins, trades gossip on fellow skaters, and, somewhere in the back of his mind, realises he never has much to say about himself these days. He bought a house, a dilapidated old thing he’s trying to flip, he’s playing hockey, drinking and seeing Kaitlyn. He doesn’t go into detail about the last two.

Ultimately, they know it’s a business meeting. They go over their schedule and make professional plans for Montreal to get started on tour choreography and tentative personal plans to hang out, which he knows one of them will end up cancelling last minute just like the previous two times, spouting excuses and receiving platitudes.

And so it goes.

 

_iii. holly (golightly) & bruce (wayne)_

It’s exhausting. Training and getting back into Olympic shape are absolutely killing him, every conditioning session leaves him wanting to kick his own ass for every single bad choice before this comeback. He feels hot all the time too, and incredibly thirsty. He always wants to laugh when he skates to the boards and spots his massive water bottle - courtesy of b2ten - sitting next to Tessa’s, a simple and reasonably-sized (albeit tall) thing.

But if he feels hot, Tessa simply feels on fire. And not just metaphorically, because she truly is skating the best he’s ever seen her do (and looking so heartbreakingly beautiful), but literally.

(She’s always felt the cold more than him, ever since their days of not being tall enough to even see over the boards and getting plastic participation medals at local competitions; his brother had even nicknamed her “big hands” due to the ridiculously puffy mittens she used to wear to try and retain some warmth.)

The first time it happened, he pulled away from her touch quickly, stopping in the middle of a spin to touch her forehead and her neck, making both Marie and Patch check her for a fever. Now he often catches himself looking down at his arms, half expecting to find her fingerprints seared into his skin, wondering why the world can’t see the marks she leaves all over him with every touch.

They always go for coffee after a good practice, and there’s been plenty of those lately. It’s quickly shaping up to be their best season, and they have the medals to prove it.

The nearest Starbucks is quite a walk, which they often take to avoid looking for parking and to get some exercise in on the days where they don’t have training at the gym or conditioning, to make up for the treat they’re indulging in.

Without fail, she always orders something complicated, like her current obsession with almond milk cappuccinos. He orders an iced coffee, needing the cold drink to help calm him down so he can stop thinking about every not-quite-accidental kiss he lays on her collarbone with their short dance as an excuse.

He’s trying not to fantasize about kissing her collarbone and up her neck off the ice when the barista calls out for Holly and Bruce, their coffee alter-egos, and Tessa puts her phone away and gets up to retrieve their drinks, passing him his own before they walk back home.

 

 

+ _i._

They duck inside a café to wait out the rain and she asks him to order their drinks while she uses the restroom to try to make herself look less indecent. Her white shirt has completely soaked through in the front and she spends the next ten minutes standing in front of the hand dryer, sweating as she holds up the fabric underneath the vent.

By the time she comes out, face scrubbed clean of her smudged make up and shirt still damp but mercifully doing its job of covering her chest, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, pelting the window in front of the tables. Scott sits cradling two paper cups, hands on the lids and looking out at the trees swaying in the wind. He takes her breath away.

Walking back to their table, she sits down and puts her make-up remover wipes into her bag on the back of the chair, reaching for one of the cups. He pulls it away from her, still seemingly lost in thought and she huffs, calling his name to get his attention. He fidgets with the cups, spinning them around by the lids and turning to look at her.

It takes her by surprise sometimes, to look at him and see him looking at her like that; like she’s something precious and he can't believe she's real, with a softness in his gaze that feels like a caress.

She smiles, bringing her hands up to smooth over her hair and putting it up in a bun before realising she stretched out her hairband and had to throw it away earlier. Reaching for the one he always carries on his wrist for her, she encounters resistance when he refuses to open his hand and let go of the coffee cup and frowns.

“Babe?” She asks dubiously.

Scott’s fidgeting with the cups again, turning them around and putting them side by side in front of her. He finally removes his hands, pulling the elastic from his wrist and passing it to her wordlessly, waiting.

She puts her hair up and reaches for one of the cups; they have the same order nowadays, since he learned it’s easier to just drink whatever she’s drinking, considering her ever-changing over-complicated orders. Tessa looks down, expecting to see one of their fake names on the lids and he pushes a small plate in front of her.

(That’d been the reason they’d been out in the first place; he’d gone to pick her up from class, their entire schedule thrown off by her car simply refusing to turn on and almost making her late for her last final of the semester. Thankfully he's just started his vacation two days ago, taking her car to the shop and getting everything ready for their trip home. She hadn’t seen the point in eating before they got home, which made him annoyed with her because she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “That was four hours ago, Tess.” He’d cleared the fridge that morning so they had no food at home and wouldn’t be ready to leave for another two hours.)

Instead, she sees a small chocolate croissant perfectly sprinkled with powdered sugar and a beautiful ring beside it, the solitaire stone glinting against the golden band. The cups have his handwriting scrawled on the lid, spelling out the words _“marry me?”_

She looks up to find Scott staring at her in that way that makes her feel exposed and protected at the same time. It’s a softness that both evidences and belies everything about him. He still hasn’t said a word.

Tessa reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing them close to her face, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Letting go, she holds up a finger and turns to reach inside her bag, quickly finding the sharpie he’d stored back inside previously and uncapping it, quickly scrawling an answer underneath his own writing: _yes._

**Author's Note:**

> (The last scene was lowkey inspired by Marry Me by Train.)
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated, as are kudos and comments.
> 
> Title from Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare.


End file.
